Where it all ends, I can't fathom, my friends...

Man, I love Fridays where you don't have to do anything. No class, no work, and a handful of errands that could wait until tomorrow if I'm so inclined. Ah.
Okay, so, I was Stumbling again (it's my new favorite hobby) and found this hilarious website called In Passing.... This woman overhears insanely stupid things and puts them on her blog. Here are a few favorites:

"Mom, I need to go to the bathroom."
"God, sweetie, what have I told you about TMI? I didn't need to know that, and neither did anyone else here."
--A girl who looked to be about 4, and her mother, in line for checkout at Andronico's.

"His phrasing is weird, it's offbeat. He's not pausing at the commas. Hear that? Wait a minute... Dude, he's pausing at the big words."
--A girl watching Bush's press conference on the TV in the lobby of my hotel. (FinalJump's Note: I've actually observed this presidential tendency myself, so I can't blame the girl for saying it)

"So I get home, and she's sitting at the kitchen table with a notebook, counting all the carrot sticks."
"Again?"
--Two women talking outside Pegasus books

"Good call on the reservations. Makes it look like there was advance planning."
"There was. We made reservations."
"You know..."
--Two women arguing in the bathroom at P.F. Changs

"It's smoking. What's wrong with it?"
"That's steam. Are you not familiar with things that are hot?"
--A girl and a guy outside the Cheeseboard pizza shop.

(FinalJump's Note: This one's for the dwainker)
"I asked for Guinness and this is obviously Lagunitas. Guinness isn't clear. Guinness isn't golden. How do you get those two confused? Can no one hear me? This is what's wrong with life. This is the way the world ends. Lagunitas for Guinesss, boom."
--A girl at Cafe du Nord, at the Mike Doughty concert

And finally:
"Gina is a dum ho."
"The defense rests, your honor."
--Written on the wall of a construction site near Lexington & 59th.

Ah, stupid people: you make the world go round and make it miserable for the rest of us.
So, I think I might be bipolar, or manic depressive, or whatever the newest term is. I came to this realization when I noticed that I have days that are essentially exactly the same, but some are really good and others are really bad. There are days where I cannot laugh at anything, and days where I'm in an extremely good mood for no reason at all. I mean, just look back through the blog and you see days of total snarkness due to a bad mood, and then there are posts were it's all lighthearted. Sometimes you can see that swing within a post. I don't know, maybe I just want to get in on the "crazy like everybody else" craze. Heh, a crazy craze. Stupid punny language.
So, in the non-structured day that has just passed, I've played a lot of Xbox. Not a 12-hour marathon, but it's been a lot of go in, play Star Wars: Battlefront for a couple of levels, turn the box off, do something else, go back to the living room, lather, rinse, repeat. I beat the game long ago (no, no silly Star Wars pun there) and now just keep playing a couple of battles over and over again. The one that's probably most fun for me is the Battle of Geonosis, from the end of Episode II. I choose to play a Republic pilot and jump in one of the gunships and just blast every fucking droid away. Oh, my God! One time I played it and scored 128 kills and no deaths. Now, considering that the Confederacy only gets 220 troops for the entire battle, that's just awesome. Yes, I know, I'm betraying the Joe Normal score I got on the nerd/geek/dork test, but that game is a blast. I figured that it'd be boring, since it has only about 13 battles that would play through the same way each time, but the battles are pretty fresh each time, which is pretty cool.
So, I joined facebook a couple of weeks ago, but didn't put any information up. At all. So, for about a month, the only info there was my name and where I went to school. A good friend of mine, who was the only person that I told about my signing up, finally sent me a message that told me that I needed to update my info, and that I would only get out of facebook what I put in. Now, considering that I wasn't really expecting/wanting to get anything out of facebook, I thought about just ignoring it. But, for some reason, her message got through to me and I put some info up. Mainly it was the basics: favorite movies, music, and books, and what I did at my job. I listed Rod Stewart as one of my favorite musicians, and then today I got this invite to a facebook group called Rod Stewart Rocks! Now, look, there's no way I'm joining this group. I'll be honest: I'm listening to a Rod Stewart song as I type this paragraph. However, there is no way that I will belong to a group called Rod Stewart Rocks. My brain forbids it, my soul forbids, and my right index finger forbids itself from clicking "confirm invite." It's not an embarrassment issue, it's just the principle of the matter. There are groups for several other musicians on my list, but I have no plan on joining those, either. After getting that e-mail, I started looking at other groups on facebook, just to see what's out there. There's "I went to a public school, bitch," which the title gives the only real character to. There are several devoted to basketball, which is depressing. "Saved by the Bell rocked my world" is equally depressing. Ultimately, I think that facebook is just a method for implying socialization without actually doing it. It's also a vain attempt to try and be cool. For instance, there's a celebrity who went to our school and has a profile on facebook, which has led well over 3000 students here to "become friends" with her. I find it kind of sad, actually. I also decided to search for my high school and see who I knew on there and where they ended up. First, almost no one from my class is on there. Second, there were a few people one there who I've know since they were extremely young, like five to my ten, for instance. Now, some of them have graduated high school and are off to college. God, that made me feel a bit old. The only plus that I've run into involving facebook was that it reminded me about my old friend from the last post. It didn't give me her e-mail or anything like that, it just had a picture that made me go, "Wow, I should send her an e-mail." So, what exactly, my dear last-name-that-no-one-can-ever-pronounce-correctly, can I get out of facebook? That sounds a lot harsher than it should, by the way.
So, since the SotP from last time is currently playing on Winamp, I guess that it's a hint to wrap this post up. The SotP from last time was Peter Gabriel's Solsbury Hill. The song is just frickin' awesome. I've already talked about interpretations, so I'll leave that alone. Last summer (not the one we're currently living in, the summer of '04), I had to leave my college town and go back home to work. I really didn't want to. There was a lot of stuff going on that I knew if I went home would all fall apart. I didn't have a car at the time and my father was going coming to pick me up. I delayed as long as possible. I seriously dreaded going home. One day, Solsbury Hill was playing and I realized how true the lyrics rang with me, with, obviously, the line "'Son,' he said, 'Grab your things, / I've come to take you home.'" hitting me the most. Home was the last place I wanted to go, but, of course, ended up there anyway. It was a pretty worthless summer. And, of course, things fell apart back here, too. I hate always being right.
Yeah, so, there you are. I started this post out quite happy, and now it's a pretty depressing post.
Alright, so, I guess it's time for the Song of the Post: "I know I should be leaving this climate. / I got a verse and can't rhyme it." Wow. I love Songfacts. This song has a funny little story behind it from the artist themselves, their self, themself (I don't know, take your pick. Stupid genderless grammar):
"It was February in Boston, and I was cold and wanted to go home. Rum and tonic was the antifreeze, and the newspaper was full of ads for warmer climates. I was in a place owned by Derek Sandersen, who was a very famous player for the Boston Bruins in the '70s. I came out of the bar and couldn't find a cab except for the one that was running in front of the nearby hotel. There was no driver in it, and I was too cold to care about the consequences. There is an old Navy expression which says, 'Beg forgiveness, not permission.' I hopped in and drove back to my hotel. I did leave the fare on the seat."